


One Last Soul to Save

by wasserplane



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Family Fluff, Fix-It, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Platonic Relationships, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 18:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5101010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasserplane/pseuds/wasserplane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk has finally gotten the best result-breaking the barrier, and freeing the monsters. But, they've made mistakes along the way. Mistakes that can't be undone so easily. </p><p>Post-pacifist ending dealing with the consequences of a genocide run. Focus on the family/friend relationships of Frisk and other characters. Mentions of abusive parents.</p><p>Just like in the game, Frisk uses they/them pronouns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. places to go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfic in a very long time, lol. I hope you guys like it. The goal is around 10-12 chapters but I'm a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants writer.
> 
> Thanks for reading.

It's been a while since you’ve seen the Sun. 

It was different, through the barrier. Even facing Asgore, the light coming through was different—twilight, you think, is a good word for it.

It's warm. You had gotten used to the cooler temperature of the underground. And liked it. You were never a fan of the heat—or the summer.  


Papyrus likes it. You think. He seems to like most things. His excitement is contagious--you can't help but at least smile a little.  


You, however… you're not particularly glad to see the Sun. Now that you're back on the surface, you don't know what to do.  


_This was what you had wanted, right? To go home?_  


Not at all. That was why, the first time, you had—  


You…  


You don’t want to think about that.  


“We should really think about what comes next,” Toriel says, interrupting your thoughts. You listen in on the others speak, and soon they all rush off, for some reason or another. You understand. It’s exciting.  


You’re glad they’re getting this. They deserve it.  


_But._  


But, you don’t want to be here. On the surface. Now that you’re here, you suppose you have to go home, don’t you?  


_Yes. You have to go back. Unless_  


Unless you reset. But you won’t do that. Not to them.  


They’re happy. It doesn’t matter if you are. After all,  


_‘You’re the type of person who won’t ever be happy’, right?_  


Yeah.  


So, you turn to Toriel with a polite smile. “I have places to go,” you say, your voice quiet as always. Talking was still hard for you, even when the monsters encouraged it. You were too far stuck in your habit—speak only when spoken to.  


“…I see,” she says, and if you’re not mistaken, she sounds disappointed. You said the wrong thing. You said the wrong thing! You open your mouth, then close it. No, it was too late to say anything else. Besides, your parents—you had been gone a while. They would want you home.  


“See you around.” she says with a smile, and you soak it up. Sans was rubbing off on her, wasn’t he? You manage to pull your expressionless face into a smile, before heading out.  


It takes a while to get back to where you were before. There’s not a lot around Mt. Ebott besides a large forest—tall tales about the mountain keep people away. Most people. Through the woods, there’s a small bus stop, connecting the rural area around the woods to a nearby city.  


That’s where you had been, before. Or, rather, where you were supposed to go. Instead, you walked through the woods, towards the mountain, and fallen right in.  


All-in-all, one of the better decisions you’ve made.  


You sit down at one of seats at the stop and pull out your phone. Calling your parents. That was always a good time. You start dialing your mom’s cell phone.  
It rings a few times. No answer. Big surprise.  


Dad’s cell. No answer. Home phone. No answer. Dad’s work. He left for the day.  


You slump in the chair. There you were, back at the beginning. You don’t want to sit here and wait any more. Not after what you’ve been through. You stand up and start heading back into the woods. Just a little exploration. You pick up another stick, just like the one you had before. It’s nostalgic, at this point. And you’re beginning to forget how alone you are—it’s an adventure, but not one that could actually kill you, this time.  


Until it starts getting dark. Then, you begin to realize you can’t romp around in the woods forever. You pull out your phone again, starting to make the rounds again, before stopping for a moment. Toriel. You had her number. You could contact her. You could stay the night, maybe. Wherever she was staying, that is. You can’t imagine that they’ve built homes overnight. You start dialing before you freeze up.  


She had never answered, all while you were in the underground. Not that it meant she didn’t want to talk to you but—she had told you to leave her alone. Or… something to that effect. Your memory might be muddled, but—  


_She doesn’t want you to bother her._  


Your hand freezes in front of the numbers before slowly putting the phone down. Not Toriel.  


…But, there was someone who picked up your calls every time. Someone who had always been excited to hear your voice. You try not to get your hopes up as you search through your contacts, looking for that person.  


“Hello, Human! Frisk?!” he says, and you have to cover your mouth for a moment while you gather your voice.  


“Hi Papyrus,” you say softly, the smile clear in your voice.  


“Frisk!” he says again, this time not a question. You love your name when he says it. “Where are you? Toriel says you had places to go, but we’re going to hang out soon, right? Maybe I can visit you! I can introduce myself to your family!” he says, getting more and more excited as he goes on.  


God, it feels so nice to hear someone else’s voice.  


“I’m in the woods,” you mumble, glancing at the ground.  


There’s a beat of silence before he speaks up again. “Really?! That’s close by! Where in the woods?”  


“By… by the bus stop.” you reply.  


“Hm.” he says, and you realize that your answer meant nothing for the monsters that had just barely moved to the surface. “I don’t know where that is, but—Frisk! Do not worry! I will look it up on the internet!” he says, before doing what you assume is dramatically hanging up.  


At least you’re smiling, now. You head back toward the bus stop, standing at the edge of the woods. You refuse to go back there, and waiting there is enough for now.  


It’s not too long before Papyrus arrives, huffing and puffing. If you had to take a guess, he probably ran the whole way. Your face lights up as he arrives at the bus stop, looking around wildly for you.  


You run up, waving. It doesn’t take long for him to spot you, especially when you’re waving that stick around. You drop it as soon as he gets close, and he pulls you into a hug.  


“You’re shaking!” he says, worried. You haven’t even noticed. It doesn’t matter, anymore. You hold him tightly, burying your face in his scarf. It smells like bones—or, the smell you’ve come to associate with bones.  


“Did you do the things you needed to do? Can you come with us, now?” Papyrus asks hopefully.  


You open your mouth, and then close it, hesitating.  


“Toriel made this weird quiche! It tastes really good!” he adds, as if bribing you into coming.  


“Hey. If the kid doesn’t wanna come, don’t make them.” a familiar voice says, coming up from behind you—the opposite direction that Papyrus had come from. A shortcut, you suppose. How he already managed to find shortcuts is beyond you.  


“Sans! You’re late!” Papyrus says, finally setting you back down from your hug.  


You glance at Sans, then at the ground. Was he here for you? To comfort you? No. That’s unlikely.  


_He doesn’t trust you to be alone with Papyrus._  


You continue to look at the ground, softly stepping on a leaf and hearing an incredibly unsatisfying _mush_ sound.  


“So, who’d you meet here?” Sans says, glancing around the place. “Must’ve left pretty quick.” he adds, his gaze turning to you.  


You give a weak shrug in response. Was that a question? Did he want you to say something? “They were busy,” you mumble, hoping that wasn’t too much.  


Sans keeps staring at you. You don’t really know a lot about him, but he always seems to know more than usual. Perceptive, maybe. Or… something else. Something that allowed him to be everywhere. You’ve had your suspicions, since…  


No, it doesn’t matter. Everyone has secrets. You don’t want to dwell on them—on that time.  


Luckily, Papyrus is always eager to fill the silence. “Great! Want to come with us? I can show you where we’re living now!” he says, a note of hope in his voice. He doesn’t want you to leave.  


You don’t want him to leave, either.  


“Yes,” you answer quietly. Papyrus has to lean in to hear your answers, sometimes, and you always feel warmer when he does. Worthwhile. He likes listening to you—something that you have to keep reminding yourself, especially when times got bad. He picked up the phone.  


Papyrus stands up straight and beams. “Wonderful! Follow me human—er, Frisk!” he says, starting to march off. You follow him, a small smile on his face. He looked so heroic, like this, with the setting Sun in front of him, casting a glow around his body. You pick up your pace—you have to move twice as fast to keep up with his long legs—and you head to his house, only glancing back once to check to see if Sans was following, too.  


He… was. It surprised you. He’s walking right behind you, shooting you a casual grin when you glance back. He looks back at the bus stop as you walk away, his hands in his pockets, before glancing at Papyrus, then at you with an eager grin that clearly said,  


_“My brother’s the coolest, isn’t he?”_  


You beam back, answering in your silent way.  


_"Yeah. He is."_


	2. accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frisk stays in a house for a while.

“Here we are!” Papyrus announces, stopping his march and pointing at a small building.

It’s a lot smaller than where they lived last, but none less impressive for the short amount of time they had to build it. They’ve brought the Christmas lights as well, and had strung them up the front of the house somewhat messily.

“Sans is very good at building things!” Papyrus brags, ushering you towards the house. “But… he wouldn’t let me help. He said that—no, I can’t even repeat it!”

Sans lets out a single chuckle. “I said, if you try to use rotini to build the house… it will farfalle apart.”

“AUGH!” Papyrus exclaims, throwing his hand up. “Frisk, let’s not listen to this anymore. Come on inside!” he says, before running into the house.

You take a moment to look over at Sans, who seems extremely pleased with himself. He catches your glance and winks before heading into the house as well.

You look up at the house, taking in a small breath. Going in here with them… it felt just like the underground. Almost too good to be true. You walk into the house.

It’s warm. You hadn’t noticed how cold it was outside until you feel the heat on the inside. And the house is…

Sans is grinning at you. You’re pretty sure he knows what you’re thinking—who wouldn’t be?

The house is exactly the same. The kitchen, right there. The TV, there. And, stairs on the right… Sans’ room, Papyrus’ room, the bone painting, and even the pet rock, with sprinkles all over it. You wonder if that little dog somehow snuck in there, as well.

You love it. You open your mouth to say so, before closing it.

Papyrus watches you eagerly. “Did you have something to say?” he asks.

You feel relieved. Permission. “I love it.” you say, speaking up more than you normally did. This house made you feel safe. “I really like how you even copied the mysterious smoke,” you add shyly, shooting Sans a teasing smile. It’s a bold move, for you, but if there’s anyone you can joke around with, it’s these two.

Sans beams. “Yeah? Thanks, kid. It’s one of my favorite mood setters.” he says, before heading off to his room.

You watch him for a moment before looking over at Papyrus, who you discover is looking at you like you’ve won the Olympics for him. What? Why did he look so… so _proud_ of you?

_…_

“Frisk, you always say great things!” he says after a moment. “Anyway! Look around the house all you want! It’s mostly the same, except you won’t find any money in the couch this time!” he says, although he takes a look at the couch just to check, in case.

You nod, suddenly feeling warm. Great things? You can’t reply to that—you want to tell him that he’s great, that everything he says is something you love to hear, but…

Hopefully you can show it in other ways. You sit on the couch, curling up a little.

“Frisk! I know! Let me get you some tea—Undyne taught me how to make it!” he says, running to the kitchen.

You hold a pillow close to you, feeling warmer than you have since you left the underground, oddly enough. You prefer Papyrus over the Sun.

It’s a while before he comes back, and you’re slipping off to sleep.  He sets the cup on the table next to you, saying something that you’re too tired to hear, before heading away. And then, you slip out of consciousness.

_…_

_Remember me?_

_I didn’t leave._

_You made a promise._

_I’m going_

_to collect_

_soon_

_:)_

You awake with a start, panting silently. That voice! You—they were—

You look down, realizing that someone had put a blanket on you when you were asleep. Probably Papyrus. You were in Papyrus and Sans’ house. You were safe.

_But are they?_

You clutch your chest. Your soul. You… you didn’t have one anymore, did you? You wanted to laugh when Asgore tried to take your soul. When the dummy tried. When Mettaton tried. They didn’t know—you were empty.

You couldn’t tell anyone. You couldn’t tell them why it happened.

_Sans knows._

You look up at his room door suddenly, jerking your head. He knew. You feel cold, despite the blanket. Would it be a bad idea to try and leave? But… you didn’t have anywhere else to go, and you have no clue what time it was. It was dark—that’s all you knew.

It wasn’t the worst night you had. You look over at the side table. The cup of tea was still there. It’s a relief to see. You reach over and gingerly take it, slowly taking a sip. It’s… good. Cold, but good. Not too surprising, considering how good Undyne’s tea was. She could be a good teacher, when she wasn’t cooking with fire. You make a mental note to tell Papyrus how good the tea is later. Or… somehow let him know in another way.

The tea calms you down, cold as it is. You move to set the cup back on the table. It’s dark, and as you set the half-empty cup down, your heart suddenly stops. You had put it on the edge. It was going to—

The cup falls to the ground with a soft clash. You flinch at the sound, at your mistake.

You stand up, hastily dropping the blanket on the couch. No. No, no, no, no—

Maybe you could clean it up, before anyone noticed.  You start walking to the kitchen, trying to ignore the static in your head.

_They’ll hate you._

You peek in the kitchen. It’s dark, too dark, and you don’t know where the towels are.

_They’ll hurt you._

You hear a door opening up on the second floor. Someone heard. Someone noticed. You can’t be here anymore. You ruined it. You make a break for the door. You have to leave, before they know—

“Frisk?” A voice calls out nervously. Sans. You’ve only seen him that nervous once. You flinch at the tone, not stopping as you grab at the door handle, pushing with all your might to open it.

“Hey. Frisk.” he says, now cool and collected, and suddenly standing next to you. You jump away, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Frisk, did you—“

“Sorry,” you whisper shakily, tears starting to stream down your face. “I—it was an accident.” you add, then flinch. You spoke out of turn.

Sans’ face is unreadable. “Hey, Frisk. It’s okay.” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder. You can’t help but flinch again. He takes it off. “I think I like what you’ve done to the place, anyway.” he adds, shooting you a wink. He leans over you to turn the lights on.

He also smells like bones.

Sans walks to the kitchen and glances back at you. “Come on, kid. You gotta clean this up, now.” he says, rummaging in the kitchen before pulling out a few towels and unceremoniously tossing them at you.

You catch them easily—your reflexes are pretty good, after all you’ve been through.

Sans leads you back to the mess you made, and you feel ashamed just looking at it. You’re sure your face is red. “Sorry,” you mumble again, grabbing a towel and cleaning up the liquid.

“Hey, no sweat, kid.” he says, idly watching you clean it up. “It’s okay to make mistakes… _as long as you clean it up afterwards_.”

You freeze. You’ve heard that tone of voice before—you’ve seen that thing he does with his eyes, when he makes his pupils leave. He’s not talking about the spill. But you did clean it up, didn’t you? You made things better, hadn’t you?

“I—I am.” you stutter, cleaning up with twice the effort.

He gives a chuckle. “I know, kid. It's looking pretty good, now.” he says, before heading back into the kitchen, coming back with a plastic bag. “Here. Put the cup in this.” he says, handing it to you.

It takes a while, but you clean it up while he sits on the couch and starts dozing. You’re glad he’s falling asleep—he scares you, especially when you’re in his house.

With the spill cleaned—tea soaked up and pieces of the cup in the trash—you stand up and look at Sans. He’s completely knocked out. The couch… that’s where you were sleeping. You wonder if you should go somewhere else. You suppose you could walk back to your house, the one with your parents, but it’s too dark, and you don’t know how they’ll react to you coming home so late at night.

You’re stuck.

You sit on the floor next to the couch. This would be fine. You’ve slept on the floor more than enough times. You curl up, and…

“Hey, kid.”

You jump at his voice, quickly turning your head to look at the couch to where he was sleeping, but he’s not there, anymore. What?

You make a startled noise as he picks you up and puts you on the couch.

“I know you don’t like me very much, kid,” he begins, starting to walk away. “But we’re glad to have you, okay?” he says, before walking up the stairs and entering his room.

He… thought you didn’t like him? You were scared of him, certainly, but…

You feel guilty. There’s no reason you shouldn’t like him, at least not in this timeline.

You take the blanket and cover your head. That felt better, just a little. Maybe you could actually fall back asleep, like this.


	3. cooking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cooking happens. No houses were burned in the making of this chapter.

Papyrus wakes you up the next day. Not on purpose, but by making a racket in the kitchen. You open your eyes, wonder why he’s doing this so early in the morning. It’s still dark out!

You sit up, and the blanket slips off your face. Oh. The sun was shining brightly. This was probably… lunch. You wonder how Sans can sleep through all this noise. It sounds like Papyrus is somehow banging everything in the kitchen against itself.

Curious, you stand up, leaving the blanket on the couch. You take one moment to glance at the spot on the floor where you had dropped the cup. It’s spotless. You’re more than relieved at that—no harm done, right?

You walk to the edge of the kitchen, peeking your head around the corner.

Papyrus notices you instantly. Surprising, considering how bad he was at spotting you at the beginning—he spotted a rock before you!

“Frisk!” he says, grinning. “I’m preparing for Undyne’s cooking lesson! She said I needed to practice a few times before my next lesson, but things have gotten really busy…” He glances at the window, beaming at the sight of the sun.

You shoot him an encouraging smile when he looks over at you again, before standing in the corner and watching his commotion. Undyne really was a bad teacher—you didn’t know much about cooking, but you’re pretty sure that it doesn’t involve physically smashing up the ingredients.

“Frisk,” Papyrus begins. You look up at him curiously. “Frisk, we should hang out at Undyne’s again! You could come to the lesson!”

Oh? Maybe that’s a good idea. You could keep the two of them from burning up the house, or whatever possible kitchen disaster that could happen. You nod in reply.

He straightens up, looking excited. You’re not sure how the skeletons manage to do it, without eyes, or eyebrows, or… any facial features, really. But they’re surprisingly emotive, and you love watching the expressions that Papyrus goes through in a single sentence.

“I, the Great Papyrus, will lead you to Undyne’s new house!” he announces, thumping a hand against his hollow chest. You can’t help but smile along with his excitement.

He holds out a hand, and you gladly take it.

The two of you walk out of the house, and out of the corner of your eye, you swear you can see Sans watching. Well, fine. You weren’t going to be alone with Papyrus—he wouldn’t have anything to worry about.

_He’ll never trust you._

Probably. But… you’re starting to accept that. It would be okay, if he felt that way.

But you don’t want to live in that house. Not for more than a single night, here and there. Enough to visit Papyrus, and enough to not…

Even in your thoughts, you can’t really vocalize why it makes you uncomfortable.

_If you stay in his house, you’re indebted to him._

_You have to follow his rules._

_He has power over you._

…That was it. If you lived there—

_He could do anything he wanted to you._

You try not to dwell on the thought, instead focusing on following Papyrus out. As usual, you have to hustle quite a bit to keep pace with the long-legged skeleton, clutching his hand tightly. You notice that if you ever seem to fall a little too far behind, he slows down. He doesn’t say anything about it. You appreciate that.

You get to Undyne’s house, and you have to stare for a while.

_It looks terrible._

It really did. You suddenly have much more respect for Sans’ building abilities. Undyne’s house was little more than planks everywhere, around half of them with slash marks through them.

How were they going to cook? You’re a little worried, if not incredibly curious. You turn to look at Papyrus.

“Undyne’s house is really impressive, isn’t it? She wanted to do it all by herself, refusing help from anyone.” he says, as if bragging about her. You weren’t really sure that was a good thing.

Papyrus walks up to the piece of wood that was currently acting like the door, and knocks.

The door rattles a bit. It takes a few moments, but you realize what’s happening—she’s trying to open it, but the door doesn’t seem to have been built to do that. The door starts thumping instead. You hide behind Papyrus, realizing what’s going to happen.

There’s a loud _crash_ , along with a splitting sound, and pieces of wood fly everywhere.

“Hey!” Undyne yells, running towards you and Papyrus and scooping the both of you up in a messy hug. You squirm a bit, but enjoy it. Undyne’s hugs were so strong and tight to the point of being almost painful, but it was nice to be this close to the both of them, even if Papyrus’ bones were sticking into you, a little bit.

“Undyne! We are here for a cooking lesson!” Papyrus exclaims as she sets you down.

She grins, flashing her sharp teeth. “Good! I hope you’re ready. I don’t have much of a kitchen, but we’ll make do. Come on in.” She turns and heads through the cracked door and into the house.

You follow behind Papyrus. Inside her house was marginally better than the outside—there was a rudimentary kitchen set up, along with Undyne’s old heating refrigerator that she must have moved from the underground.

You wonder how she moved it out of her burning house, but not for long. It seemed like anything was possible for Undyne.

_Except killing you._

No, that wasn’t true. She’s killed you many, many times before. Times you’ve deserved, and times you haven’t.

_You deserved all of them._

…You probably did. You can’t help but wonder, what the world would be like without you. If you had been captured and sent to Asgore, and your soul used to break the barrier.

_Better. Much, much better._

_You killed them, in case you had forgotten._

Sometimes you like to pretend to forget. But something always ends up reminding you. Thoughts that keep coming to your head, thoughts about how guilty you are, or about how much they all dislike you.

Intrusive thoughts. You think that’s a good name for them. A… hopeful one. A name that distanced yourself from them. They weren’t your thoughts—they were just bothering you.

“Okay!” Undyne shouts, interrupting your thoughts. Your turn your attention to her make-shift stove, where she was putting a frying pan. “Papyrus, you need to widen your horizons! No pasta today!” she announces. Papyrus looks shocked. “Today, we’re going to learn how to make… toast!”

You blink. Toast…? Even you knew how to make toast. Maybe you could be of some help during this cooking lesson.

She beckons Papyrus over, before turning to you. “Frisk, come close and watch.” she orders, and you do so, standing behind the both of them, excited.

She starts by bringing out the ingredients. Butter and bread. It seemed simple. You hope that, maybe, the house will be fine.

“HA!” Undyne yells, slicing the bread with her spear. Or, maybe not.

Papyrus watches intently, before attempting to slice a piece of bread with a bone. Instead of cutting neatly, the bread is squished and torn messily.

“Good!” Undyne says, slapping Papyrus on the back. He doesn’t even flinch. “Now, watch me!”

She takes out a knife for the butter.

_Take it._

What?

_Get the knife._

You stare blankly as Undyne takes a large chunk of butter and smashes it into the bread, before going back and taking another piece of butter and throwing it onto the frying pan. “Now you do it.” she says, turning to Papyrus.

Papyrus does the same thing, but with a bone. You’re not sure how he does it, but he did, and now there’s butter everywhere.

Undyne puts the knife down.

You take a step towards the counter.

“Now turn on the fire!” she says, pointing dramatically to the counter.

Papyrus stares for a moment. “Um…” he says, looking where a stove should be.

“Oh. Right.” Undyne says, pushing him out of the way and moving in front of the stove. “Let me handle this.” she says, rummaging in her pockets. “Alphys gave me this thing since I don’t have a stove, yet. It’s a device that makes fire!”

You don’t really think about how dangerous her having fire is. Your eyes don’t drift from the knife.

It’s

_not sharp,_

but it’s

_better than nothing._

You don’t look at Undyne as she sets the top of the stove on fire. You don’t watch as Papyrus tosses the buttered bread onto the frying pan.

You dart forward, and grab the knife, subtly sliding into one of your pants pockets. It feels comforting, to feel the cold metal with your hand.

_Sans won’t hurt you, now._

And, even if he tried…

_We’ve_ _done this before._

“Not again!” Undyne shouts, and you jerk your head over to look at her. She had caught the counter on fire, again. You wonder how she managed to keep her house for as long as she did before you met her.

“Frisk, help me stop it,” she orders, and you reluctantly pull your hand out of your pocket to help Papyrus with throwing buckets of water on the fire. Eventually, you all manage to get the kitchen under control.

Undyne picks up the frying pan—which had charred pieces of bread that were now also soaking in water—and sits down at the table, with Papyrus following her. “There… it’s… hah… done!” she says while panting for breath.

“Wowee! Making toast is easier than I thought!” Papyrus says cheerfully, taking a piece of the bread and starting to eat it.

You make your way to the table as well, standing next to it and hesitantly looking at the bread.

“Too impressed to try any?” Undyne says with a grin, grabbing a piece of the bread and shoving it in her mouth. There’s a moment where her expression freezes, and she takes the bread out of her mouth and throws it on the ground.

“What the hell is this?!” she shouts angrily, as if she hadn’t been the one to cook.

You slip your hand back into your pocket, not saying anything. The knife shouldn’t make you feel better. You’ve made friends. You’ve walked through the entire underground without using a weapon. Why did you need this?

_I need it._

Your grip on the knife tightens.

“Frisk?” A voice says, coming from the doorway. You look over in shock and guilt, taking a subconscious step back, your whole body stiffening for a moment. They knew. You were going to get in trouble. You were—

Your body relaxes as you spot the voice. It was Toriel, standing at the doorway, looking at the whole mess of a kitchen, her expression changing from confused to alarmed.

“Your Highness!” Papyrus says politely. “What—“

“What is going on here?” Toriel demands, walking over to stand next to you.

Undyne shrugs. “Oh, we were just cooking.”

Toriel looks at the counter again. Charred marks all over the wood, and a small, harmless flame still lingering on a piece of fallen bread. Crumbs were everywhere, and Undyne, Papyrus, and you were all covered in ash.

“This is cooking?” Toriel says sharply. “What if Frisk was hurt? What if you burnt your house down?”

You exchange guilty looks with Undyne.

“Look, Miss Dreemurr—“ Undyne begins.

“Just Toriel.” Toriel interrupts coldly, before turning towards you, lowering her voice. “Frisk, is this… the places you had to go to?”

You shift in place. “Uh…” you say softly, not especially eager to explain what happened.

“Frisk was done with the things they had to do, so they came back and spent the night with me and Sans.” Papyrus explains with a wide smile.

Toriel’s expression is unreadable for a moment, before she looks at you. “Where… are you staying, Frisk?” she asks quietly, kneeling down next to you.

Your gaze drops down to the ground, ashamed. You didn’t really know.

Toriel frowns, noticing your silence. “You are always welcome to visit my house.” she says softly. “And… stay as long as you like.”

You slowly look up, nodding, hesitating for a moment before speaking up. “Please,” you say quietly.

Toriel gives you a warm smile, before wrapping you in a hug. You weren’t expecting her to hug you, but it’s not unwelcome—she’s warm, and soft, and she’s always made you feel safe, ever since she saved you from Flowey.

You… wish she was your mother.

_She’s not._

…Right.

Your heart sinks while she holds you. At the very least, you can pretend, right?

Finally, she pulls away, turning back to Undyne with a sigh. “Sans told me that you two were good cooks but… I understand now that he was pranking me.” She pauses for a moment. “Perhaps… I could give you some cooking tips sometime?”

Papyrus lights up. “Wow! A cooking lesson from the queen!”

Undyne looks excited as well.

Toriel gives a small laugh. “All right.” she says. “Perhaps some other time… for now, it looks like you need help cleaning up.”

The four of you walk to the counter, all pitching in to clean up. You listen to the other chatter, feeling happier than you have in years.


	4. knife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit to Toriel's house quickly escalates.

You take up Toriel’s offer of staying with her, at least for this night. After you clean up Undyne’s house, you say your goodbyes to Undyne and Papyrus.

“Frisk, I’ll see you soon, right?” Papyrus says, and you give him a bright smile in return before heading out with Toriel.

She takes you by the hand, leading you through the woods.

“I am going to be a school teacher, now.” she says, starting to make light conversation. She’s used to how quiet you are. “You should come to school soon, Frisk. There is a child that was talking about you.”

You can guess who’s she’s talking about—the monster kid, with the striped shirt. You couldn’t help but feel somewhat relieved that they remember you at all. Monsters… really do befriend people easily. Not like humans at all.

Then again, you haven’t been able to go to human school enough for anyone to remember who you are.

“Okay,” you answer quietly, somewhat excited at the prospect of going to school.

Toriel seems excited as well. “I will get Dr. Alphys to help with the research of things such as human history and the sciences. Undyne even said she would enjoy becoming a gym teacher. Isn’t this going to be fun? To be able to see all your friends at school?”

She knows to ask you questions, now. You’re grateful for that.

“Yes,” you say politely, bobbing your head.

She beams, and continues to lead you through the woods.

_You don’t belong there._

_At a monster school._

You try to ignore those thoughts.

“Oh! Speaking of your friends,” she begins, turning to look at you. “Sans is going to visit sometime today. He did not specify what time, but I do not think it could be that late—“ she stops mid-sentence, a smile spreading on her face.

He was there, casually standing in front of her door, and shooting her a smile back in return.

You drop Toriel’s hand and stand there.

_He’s after you._

Your hand drifts into your pocket.

_He’s going to ruin everything._

You grip the knife.

_You’ll never be safe again._

You’ll never be safe again.

You don’t move, your thoughts flooding with paranoia. You can’t tell which ones are yours, anymore. It had been fine in the underground—it was a strange land, and you expected hostility. Unfriendliness. But here, in a place you thought you might, maybe, for once feel safe in…

You’re beginning to panic. Toriel says something, but you can’t hear her. Sans is looking at you.

_Give me the knife._

What? But you already have the—

**_Give me the knife._ **

Control slips away from you, standing with the hand touching the cold metal. You can’t move your body, or feel it—only watch.

And you watch with horror.

Frisk pulls the knife out of their pocket, charging straight at Sans.

 _Get rid of him first_ , your thoughts explain.

No, not your thoughts.

It dawns on you—those weren’t your thoughts at all, not even intrusive ones. Those were someone else’s thoughts.

Frisk makes a slashing movement, but Sans dodges. Thank god. You feel a rush of relief. Of course Sans wouldn’t be easy to kill—he never had been.

“Frisk?!” Toriel asks, shocked.

Sans looks tired, like he was only waiting for this to happen.

Frisk swerves their body, turning to Toriel with the knife, holding it towards her.

“Stop dodging, or I’ll get her first!” Frisk shouts. It sounds unnatural, hearing your voice get so loud. It sounds wrong.

“Have you been waiting for this the whole time, Frisk?” Sans ask, a calm expression on his face but a shaking voice betraying his nervousness. Does he remember dying? He seemed to be able to see through the timelines, somehow, but not in the same way you did.

“Frisk, what has gotten into you?” Toriel asks, backing away. She’s worried about you. She has no clue.

Frisk takes a step closer, raising the knife in a threatening position.

“Toriel, stay away from them!” Sans says desperately. It’s equally unnatural to hear his voice express this much emotion.

Frisk looks at him for a moment before lunging towards Toriel.

You feel your whole body freeze for a moment, before being slammed into a tree.

_This again._

You get up shakily, using one hand to hold the tree to steady yourself.

Wait. You’re moving your body now. What had changed? Was it the impact? Wh—

Your thoughts are cut short by the sudden force of being slammed into another tree, and your body sinks to the ground.

“Sans! What’s going on?” You hear Toriel ask.

_Where’s the knife._

You must’ve dropped it somewhere. You glance around from the ground, spotting it by the first tree you had been smashed into.

_Get the knife._

You could barely even stand up.

_Get it._

This wasn’t like before. You didn’t have as much HP as you did when you fought him the last time. It was a struggle to even stand up.

_Get it. Get it. Get it._

Sans is moving closer to you now, standing between you and Toriel. You look up at him weakly, the voice in your head endlessly yelling for you to get the knife.

“Was this your plan all along?” Sans says quietly, still moving closer. “Get us to lower our guard? Kill us all when we think we’re safe?”

You pull yourself up, before you feel a sudden crushing force pressing you back down.

Sans has his arm out, pointing at the floor with a cold expression. You already knew he was the one doing it. He’s done it before.

He takes a step closer. You don’t know what his intent is, and you open your mouth, but you can’t form words. You can’t do anything, except lay there on the ground.

You’re sorry. You’re so, so sorry. You’re suddenly aware of tears sliding down your face. You think that’s all you can manage to do, at the moment.

_You’re pathetic._

You close your eyes. They were right. You were pathetic, trying to live happily with them all. Especially after…

_You killed them._

_And now you’re killing me._

The voice sounds bitter. You don’t care. Ha! They deserve to die, along with you.

The voice is oddly silent at that.

“Sans!” Toriel shouts, cutting through your thoughts. Your eyes pop back open and you feel the pressure lift from your back. Toriel had run in front of you, facing Sans. “What exactly is going on here? What are you talking about?”

Sans’ expression doesn’t change. “You saw what they tried to do.”

You slowly sit up, your whole body aching.

“There was something wrong. Frisk has never wished any one of us ill will before.”

Sans’ grin turns dry. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” he mumbles.

Toriel narrows her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Sans freezes up, breaking his constant watch of you to glance at Toriel. “Uh,” he says eloquently.

You stand up.

The voice starts yelling for you to pick up the knife again.

You’re too tired for that.

Toriel narrows her eyes. “Sans. Explain.”

You can’t stay here. You’ll hurt her.

Sans returns to staring at you, his eye glowing. “Frisk is dangerous.”

Toriel frowns, turning towards you. “Frisk? What happened? Why did you do that?”

It takes a moment for your voice to come back. She patiently waits for you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your gaze dropping back to the ground with tears still sliding down your face. “Sorry.”

_…Get the knife?_

That’s really not going to help right now.

_…Right._

Toriel hesitates for a moment before pulling you into a warm hug. “…I think there’s some things we need to talk about.” she says, not unkindly, before looking over at Sans. “Both of you.”

Sans shoots her a sheepish grin, before giving a sigh. “Alright. But in exchange, you should make us all some of that snail pie of yours.”

Toriel pulls away from you and looks at Sans sternly for a moment. “ _Slime_ on it,” she says, her lips twitching into a small smile.

Sans brightens up, his grin turning genuine. “Good one, Tori,” he says, starting to give a few, weak laughs.

Toriel beams back, and then turns to you, putting a hand behind your back. “Come on inside, my child.” she says. You imagine that she thinks she’s gently pushing you towards the door, but it’s rather forceful, and you stumble forward a little before catching the pace.

You glance back. The knife’s still there. The voice starts buzzing in your head again, urging you to pick it up, but that’s impossible—Toriel’s hand on your back means you can only go one way.

Sans catches your look and heads back to pick up the knife himself. You watch him put it in his pocket.

The voice goes quiet.

Your body sags with relief. You won’t be stabbing anyone soon. The voice—

_Chara._

Huh?

_Stop calling me that. I’m Chara._

Oh. The one you had sold your soul to. It made sense. You kind of feel silly for not realizing it sooner.

Toriel shuts the door behind her as she enters. You take a look around—as with the skeleton brothers, and Undyne, Toriel’s house is much smaller than her house in the underground. However, unlike Undyne’s, it’s still very well built.

However, it doesn’t look anything like the old house you remember.

Toriel catches your expression, shooting you a small smile. “Do you like it? I thought that a different layout would be more practical.” she says.

You nod, looking around curiously. Instead of three bedrooms, there only seemed to be two, and both of them were much smaller. There was no giant staircase to the underground; in fact, there was the living room and kitchen.

“Ah, one moment. Let me start on that pie. You two… play nice.” she says, her smile playful.

She knew what she was doing.

You immediately look at Sans, stiffening up again. Was he going to—?

“Relax, kid.” Sans says, putting his hands up. “You’re looking at me like I’m going to lunge at you any moment. That’s silly. _You’re the killer here, aren’t you_?”

Your face feels hot. Is he just making fun of you? Rubbing it in to be mean? He sounded just like Chara, when they were taunting you. “No one is dead.” you mumble, shooting him a glare.

Sans sticks his hands in his pockets, and leans back. “Yeah? What was that show just now?” he asks, lazily looking at you with one open eye. “Don’t tell me it was just a joke. That’s my thing.”

You hesitate. “It wasn’t me.” you say stubbornly.

Sans snorts, and you flinch. “Right.” he says sarcastically.

Of course he wouldn’t believe you. Out of anyone, you thought maybe you could tell him the truth. He seemed like he would understand it, unlike the rest of them. He seemed to remember, a little.

Or did he? There were plenty of times where he was completely oblivious.

“The pie’s in the oven,” Toriel announces, breaking the awkward silence and walking back into the room and standing next to you. You relax instantly. “Now, let us all sit down and talk about this, all right?” she says sweetly. It wasn’t a question. She looks around, hesitating for a moment. “Ah… I apologize. I have no furniture at the moment. Would you two mind sitting on the floor?”

“I’ve had worse,” you mumble, at the same time Sans says “I’ve sat on worse places.”

You stare at each other for a moment. He had a bed! He probably meant that he ended up falling asleep on the floor, or something.

Sans sits down first, with a small shrug. You assume he’s probably pretending that never happened. You should do the same.

Toriel sits next to him, causing a stupid grin to cross his face for a moment.

You sit on the other side of Toriel, and across from Sans. It’s an almost-circle, except for how far the gap between you and Sans is.

She looks at you with a soft expression. “Now, Frisk… can you tell me why you did that, just now?”


	5. repercussions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone lies, and then eats pie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you have time pls check out my undertale one shot :V [[link]](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5147480)

 

“…It was a joke.” you answer, staring at the ground. You’re sure both Toriel and Sans are staring at you.

“Is that so.” Toriel says. You glance up for a moment to see her watching you carefully. She doesn’t believe you, but she’s not going to push it. You’re relieved about that.

You just can’t let it happen again.

_That’s not up to you._

You’re not sure you believe that. After all, Chara seemed to lay off after you dropped the knife.

_That… that’s not true._

Liar.

_Look who’s talking. You lied to Mo—Toriel._

“Frisk, if there is anything you ever want to talk about, you know I am always here to talk.” Toriel says softly, interrupting your internal conversation.

You give a quick nod. “It’s fine.” you say.

Sans is watching you, but not as intensely as before. Toriel seems to calm him down as well.

“And you, Sans? Why are you acting like Frisk is dangerous?”

Sans stops looking at you. In fact, he stops looking at Toriel as well. “I was playing along. With Frisk’s joke.” he says, starting to grin. “We sure got you good, huh, Tori?”

Toriel narrows her eyes. Sans is pointedly avoiding her gaze. “Sans,” she begins. “My offer extends to you, as well. If you ever have anything to tell me…” she trails off, her offer clear. “Unlike Frisk, you’re an adult. I expect you to be able to communicate what needs to be said.” she says.

Sans nods, finally looking over at her again. “Don’t worry. If, uh, anything needs to be said, I’ll say it.”

Toriel’s expression softens. “Then, I hope—“ she stops mid sentence, sniffing the air. “Do you smell something—oh… one moment,” she says, hastily standing up and rushing to the kitchen.

You look over at Sans. He looks back at you.

“So,” he says. He doesn’t really say anything else.

You poke at the carpet for a bit, glancing over at Sans every now and then.

“Uh, kiddo,” he begins again. “I… don’t think you’re a bad person. But,” he looks away, seeming incredibly uncomfortable. “You… make me nervous, sometimes.”

You made yourself nervous, sometimes.

“I think… it might be better if you were supervised.”

You look up at him, staring.

“By… by me.” He’s completely looking to the left of you.

You’re quiet for a moment, looking at him curiously. He’s serious.

“Okay,” you say softly. No one had ever supervised you before. If it’s really that bad, you’ll just—

_Reload? You know that doesn’t work, up here._

Right. You had… forgotten.

_I’ll help you give him the slip, if it comes to that._

Uh huh. You know what that _really_ means.

_..Running away? Definitely not… anything to do with murder._

If Chara had a body you would be squinting suspiciously at them. But instead, you’re making a weird face at absolutely nothing.

You catch Sans’ eye and immediately resume your regular, neutral expression.

“I know I’m—wait, really? You’re okay with that?” he says, too surprised to notice you were making weird faces. “Well, uh,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and chuckling to himself. “That’s… good.”

Was he still nervous? Did he think you were going to kill everyone? Or stab him? Or—

_He thinks you don’t like him, remember?_

That wasn’t as nearly as bad as what you were assuming.

Toriel comes back into the room, carrying three plates of snail pie. You’ve never tried it before, but she seems to like it a lot.

“I am afraid I will have to cut back on the snail in my diet.” she says sadly, while you graciously accept her plate. “Snails are much harder to get on the surface.”

You slowly take a bite of the pie, not sure what to expect. It’s… sweet. Somewhat meaty, but sweet, and incredibly slimy. You’re not exactly the biggest fan, but you continue eating. It’s food, and you don’t get that very often.

You glance up, to see Sans practically gulp it down. “Wow, Tori, this pie is so good. I’d say… you _snailed_ it.” he says with a grin.

Toriel laughs out loud, throwing her head back. You haven’t seen her laugh like this before—or, come to think of it, act so carefree.

Sans beams at her, as if the laugh is the highest praise he could get.

You realize you haven’t really seen them interact much.

You finish eating your pie while they converse, then set the plate down quietly, glancing over.

It’s nice, hearing their voices. You lean against Toriel. She’s warm, and comfortable. You don’t think it’ll hurt anyone if you close your eyes, just for a short moment…

\---

_This isn’t a negotiable thing, Frisk. You made the deal._

Chara? But now… you see them. Standing in front of you. You’ve seen them only once before, but you’d recognize that green sweater.

That smile.

_I am OWED that soul. That body._

_You killed them._

_We killed them._

_And we’re going to_

_do it_

_ALL OVER AGAIN_

\---

You jolt awake, laying still but opening your eyes. A nightmare, again. You look around. It’s dark. If you had to guess, Toriel took you to a spare room in her house.

The dream… it was Chara, talking to you. Threatening you. You wonder if, maybe, you can speak to them, for once.

Chara?

You shiver at their voice. It’s exactly the same as the one in the dream.

_…You had a dream about me?_

Chara almost sounds touched, if not incredibly curious. Didn’t they cause the dream, or something?

_No. I can’t believe you thought I could do that._

It sounds suspiciously like Chara has a wide smirk while they’re talking to you. They’re making fun of you, aren’t they?

_If you let me use your body, I’ll show you the exact expression I’m making._

No. Not again. You shift in the heavy blankets, looking around. It seems to be a little past dusk, outside.

_Now’s your chance to escape, before that comedian starts following you around._

You slink out of bed, shivering again at the sudden lack of warmth from the blankets.

Wait, hold on. You had no reason to escape from Sans. You were looking forward to being supervised. It might be… nice?

You quickly move back into bed, happily covering yourself up with blankets. You didn’t get the most restful sleep when you were at Sans’ house, and you were still tired from the whole ordeal.

So, you were definitely going to sleep more.

Chara gives an annoyed groan _. Really? He’s going to—_

To what? Stop you from stabbing anyone?

Chara doesn’t have a reply to that.

You smugly wish them a good night.

You don’t hear anything from them, but you’re certain they’re glaring at you. You just have a feeling.

It doesn’t take long to fall asleep, again.

This time, you don’t dream.

\---

You wake up again, hot and uncomfortable. Too many blankets. You weren’t used to this. You quickly roll out of bed, laying on the ground for a moment before feeling cool enough to do anything. Why was it so hot? You turn over, your question clearly answered by a single look out the window.

It was the middle of the day. That much was clear, from the sun streaming out of the window.

The sun. You wonder how the monsters are doing, on the surface. Alphys and Mettaton must be used to it, but you wonder how the skeletons are getting on. They were used to the cold, weren’t they? Undyne probably liked the warmth. It wasn’t unbearable, like Hotland.

You stay on the floor for a moment before standing up and heading of the room (your room?) and towards the front room, the one you three had been sitting in before. No sign of Toriel. No sign of the pie you ate last night, either. She must’ve cleaned up.

You poke your head in the kitchen, curiously.

_Where are the—_

Not now.

Toriel wasn’t here, either. Where… was she?

Where was she?

Chara. Where’d she go.

No answer. You didn’t really expect them to know, anyway.

You were just a little desperate.

You walk into the kitchen, pacing around it, as if you could find her hiding behind the oven.

_She left y—_

“That wouldn’t happen!” you hiss, letting loose your bottled up nervous energy. It’s strange to do it through your voice, but it’s… liberating.

Besides, no one was there to hear it, anyway.

“Frisk? Was that you I heard?” A voice calls from the other room. Sans! But… he wasn’t there earlier! When did he get into the house?

It didn’t matter. It was nice to hear someone else’s voice. You walk into the other room, trying not to act like you’re too happy to see him.

He shoots you his usual grin. “Frisk, good to see you. Toriel had to go grocery shopping. She sends her regards.”

You nod, feeling slightly relieved. Of course she wouldn’t leave without letting you know. And, it was only shopping. She… would be back soon, right?

For now, it looks like Sans is your company. You’re… glad he’s there.

“So, Frisk,” Sans begins again, pausing for a moment. “You’re still okay with me being your chaperone, right?”

You glance at the floor, before looking over at him again. “Yeah,” you say quietly.

He nods, not saying anything.

The house is silent.

_Does he still have the knife?_

You weren’t going to ask him that.

He looks like he’s hesitating. You stare at him expectantly.

“Frisk,” he says. “Why’d you do it?”

He doesn’t waste time, does he? You suppose this is about the knife thing.

“Do what?” you ask, feigning confusion.

“Why’d you kill everyone?” he says bluntly. “And then, do this?” he says, gesturing around at the house.

You take another step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lie. Your voice is shaking.

_Nice try. Let me do the lying._

No. And how many times were they going to keep asking?

_Until it happens._

You ignore that, focusing back on Sans.

 “I know for a fact that’s a lie.” he says with an amused grin.

_How?!_

“How?” you ask suspiciously.

He stares at you, with a slight smirk. “I’m not telling you that.”

What? Then why did you have to tell him anything? That didn’t seem fair!

_Tell him that._

…You can’t.

**_Tell him._ **

“Th—then, w—why should I h—have to tell you anything?” you demand, with an incredibly shaky voice, before flinching back, preparing for the worst.

Sans doesn’t reply, instead staring at you for a few moments.

You made a mistake.

“So—“ you begin to say, before Sans interrupts you.

“You haven’t even spoken out around Papyrus like that.” he says, his smirk growing wider. “I’m flattered.”

He was making fun of you!

Why did he have to be so… so mean!

_Tell him that, too._

“You’re mean.” you say petulantly, shooting him a glare.

Sans returns the glare with a wide grin. “Funny,” he says, “You’re the one that killed everyone.”

But—everyone was—!

It didn’t take Chara’s prodding for you to start speaking, this time.

“Everyone is alive!” you insist, gesturing at the skeleton himself.

“For how long?” his wide smile loses its humor.

“What—what do you mean?” you ask.

“I saw you wave that knife around. I returned that to Undyne, by the way. It’s not nice to steal.”

“That… that wasn’t me!” you protest, your hands balling into fists at your sides.

Sans puts a hand over his face and sighs.

He doesn’t believe you. Still.

_I can convince him. Just let me take control._

That would definitely be bad idea.

Your gaze drops to the ground, shoulders slumping. You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t convince him. You weren’t good enough with words to even try.

_You have no obligation to stay here._

What, just walk away? That… wasn’t such a bad idea. You turn around and start heading towards the door, hearing Sans quietly snorting behind you. He had said he was going to follow you around, didn’t he? With a glance behind you, you quickly confirm it—Sans was following you out the door.

So, it would be you and Sans, the whole day.

You really hope this day isn’t going to be as uncomfortable as the conversation you just had.


	6. accompaniment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am SOOO SORRY for how long it took to get this chapter out, school dumped a lot of work on me all at once. Anyway, with the break coming up, hopefully I'll have time to write chapters more regularly (???)

“So, kid,” Sans begins eventually, no doubt starting to tire of the silence. The two of you had been walking for a while, without speaking. You didn’t really know this part of the woods that well, and Sans had just been following you around without much comment on your sense of direction.

You were kind of hoping to get the both of you completely lost.

At his words, you look up at him curiously. Did he have something to say, or was he just trying to make the day less awkward? How long was he going to follow you around, anyway? Only one day? Or, longer?

“We… got off on a bad start, today. What say we start over? After all, you haven’t really done anything to me,” he says with a sheepish grin, offering you a shrug.

You stare.

Wait, you haven’t done anything to him…?

“What does that mean?” you blurt out. You no longer cared enough to be polite to him, and he didn’t seem too particularly offended when you had spoken out, earlier.

He blinks. “It means… you didn’t do anything to me? I mean, besides pulling a knife on Tori for a moment there, you never seemed like you would hurt a Whimsun.” he says with a crooked smile. “’Course, I know that’s not the truth.” he adds with a chuckle.

_How does he know?!_

You stop walking and fold your arms. “You’re just making up things. You don’t know.” you say. At this point, it was probably an obvious lie, but you had to try.

Sans rolls his eyes. You think. “I know.” he says casually, giving you a small nudge.

“How?” you ask with a frown, glancing down at your shoulder for a moment where he had nudged you. It… didn’t hurt.

He grins. “A good comedian never reveals his secrets.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. You’re pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes. You start back up the aimless walking.

“Anyway, kiddo, what I’m trying to say here is we should be cool.” he says, sticking his hands in his pockets. “If I’m going to be around you, we might as well make things less… awkward.”

_Or he could leave._

“How?” you ask suspiciously.

He grins, as if he had been waiting for you to ask that. “Hey, lemme take you somewhere nice. Come on, I know a shortcut.” he says, before turning around.

That wasn’t really an answer, but you start to follow him anyway. After a few steps, the scenery drastically changes, and suddenly you’re… in front of a building? It’s made out of wood, like Sans and Papyrus’ new house, but it’s... it’s kind of familiar. Actually, the more you stare, the more you realize it looks like—

“Hey Grillby!” Sans calls out, and you look in the direction he’s facing.

Of course. He took you to Grillby’s. Or, what you assume is going to be Grillby’s new place.

The fire monster waves to the two of you, and heads towards the front door, gesturing for the two of you to follow. You momentarily wonder how Grillby opens the wooden door, but you don’t worry long. After walking through the underground, you’ve just accepted the weird.

“Come on, kiddo. You have to take a look at this place. I helped build it myself.” Sans says with an eager grin.

Just like how he built his own house? Admittedly, he seemed pretty talented, even if you’ve never actually see him do any work. Besides, maybe, that one time when he was selling hot dogs.

_And when he killed you. Over and over._

You like to pretend that never happened.

You follow Sans inside the house curiously, looking around. It was all fairly empty, besides a few bar stools.

Sans puts a hand on your shoulder. “Buddy,” he begins, and you already have a bad feeling about what’s about to happen. “Pal. Grillby’s been working really hard on moving in, but there’s only so much one fire guy can do by himself, you know?” he says, grinning wide.

You begin to see where this is going.

“No.” you say preemptively.

Sans pretends to pout. “Come on, don’t you want to eat some of Grillbuddy’s delicious burgers and fries again?” he says.

Grillby stops and looks at Sans for a moment, before moving on with his work. He seemed to be setting up tables or chairs.

You hesitate for a moment. Why not? It’s not like you had anything better to do. Besides, Grillby seemed like… a nice person. He didn’t really talk much, but you could understand that. It was always comfortable silence, with Grillby.

“Okay,” you say, and Sans looks so smug, you can’t help but suddenly wish you said no.

“Good choice, Frisk,” he says, putting his arm around your shoulders. Still smells like bones. “With my shortcuts, and your youthful vigor, we’ll have moved all of Grillby’s to the surface in no time.”

Grillby shoots you two a thumbs up. At least you’re doing good here, even if Sans seemed to think he somehow tricked you into it.

“Come on, kid,” Sans says, grabbing your hand, presumably to lead you off to another “shortcut”.

_No!_

You pull away from Sans instantly, backing away and holding both of your hands behind you.

_Don’t touch me. Don’t grab me like that!_

Your body is reacting like it’s in a state of panic. You feel shaky, and scared. You don’t understand why. All he did was—

_He was grabbing me! He was—_

This is getting out of hand. You think Sans is saying something to you, but you really can’t hear anything besides Chara’s screaming.

_He was trying to hurt me! He hates us, Frisk, we have to—_

You can’t think. You’re shaking. Chara’s panic is getting to you, somehow. You need to calm down. They won’t be _quiet_ —

Sans is saying something else to you. What did he say? If—if you don’t respond, he might get mad. That’s what people did, if you didn’t respond.

_He’s going to—_

Shut up!

Sans and Grillby are both looking at you, now.

“Sheesh, sorry, I won’t ask you about ketchup.” Sans says with a shrug, taking a step back.

What? What did he say before…? It seems too late to ask, now. Sans seems to be looking intensely at a stool, if only to avoid looking at you.

Grillby, however, is still staring. Why? He wasn’t saying anything to you, was he?

Or—

You feel your stomach drop. You said that out loud. You—you told Sans to shut up, didn’t you? Oh no.

“Uh, hey kid, ready to go?” Sans finally asks, his voice sounding weird. Almost… careful? No, Sans wasn’t careful. Before you can figure out what it is, he’s already headed out the door. You think you hear him mumble something about a shortcut.

You step up your pace, following him out with a half-jog. Before you know it, you’ve entered right back into Grillby’s place.

The old one. There’s no stools or tables—Grillby’s already moved them, from the state of his new place.

Sans leans on the counter and points behind it. “Wanna grab that stuff and bring it back with us?” he offers.

You nod and head over, grabbing bottles of ketchup, mustard, and various drinks.

Sans watches you. It’s—

Not unwelcome. But… weird. Was he going to help out?

Of course he wasn’t. You didn’t mind, too much. Sans being there was nice, better than if you had to do it alone. It was… quiet. You had forgotten how much quieter the Underground was, and even more now that everyone had left.

“Hey, kid,” he begins, and you look up, curious. “I’m… sorry, about earlier. Didn’t mean to scare you like that.” he says. He’s still not looking at you, instead looking at the wall. “You… must’ve had some bad experiences with people grabbing you, huh?”

No, not really. You think it’s Chara, but they’re keeping quiet about it.

Not that you blame them.

 “…Nah, it doesn’t matter. That’s your business.” Sans says casually, giving a shrug.

“…Sorry.”

Sans looks over at you, his eyes widening.

It’s embarrassing. “I’m sorry.” you say again. It’s hard to talk, like something is sitting on top of you, but you know it’s okay. You’ve said worse things to Sans before. You’ve spoken out against him, and he hasn’t done anything. “Sorry for yelling at you. I… didn’t mean to.”

He stares for a moment, before breaking into a grin. “Hey, no worries.”

You’re glad. He seems a lot more comfortable, now. He’s helping a little, now. Not exactly doing anything incredibly helpful, but he’s pointing out all the shelves and drawers where Grillby keeps his stock.

Eventually, you have it all set out on the counter. Sans looks pleased.

“You ready go to back? We’ll take a few trips here and back.” he says.

You start scooping up the bottles in your arms, before glancing at him.

He walks out the door, empty-handed. Wait, he wasn’t going to help?

_Of course not._

You let out a quiet sigh. His shortcuts would make this a lot easier, at least. You follow him out of the old building.

…And right into snow. This isn’t a shortcut! What is he—?

You pause. Sans is looking around at the snow, at the town.

_…How sentimental._

You can practically taste the sarcasm dripping off of Chara. You silently tell them to not be so rude.

“Do you miss it?” you ask quietly, walking up to Sans.

He jolts slightly as you do, glancing at you and plastering a grin on his face. “Not at all.” he says with a small laugh.

Liar. “I do.” you say quietly.

He looks surprised again, before a strange expression crosses his face.  “Kid, you’re making it harder and harder for me to believe you actually could lay a finger on anyone.” he says with a wry smile. As if he really wanted to believe it.

_He’ll never trust you—don’t be an idiot._

You know that. What you don’t know is how to respond to what he just said. He made things incredibly awkward very quickly.

“Anyway, let’s go back up to the surface,” Sans says with a sigh, starting to walk off in a seemingly random direction. You follow him. Another shortcut, probably.

A few more steps and you’re standing in the doorway of Grillby’s new place. It takes a few moments for you to reorient yourself, before you walk to the counter and gently place all the bottles down.

Grillby, who was in the middle of setting up shelves, turns back to you and gives you an approving nod. At least, you assume it’s approving. Grillby seems very relaxed, and you can’t help but think that he sometimes reminds you of your own father, sometimes. But, quieter. And… gentler, somehow. If fire could be gentle.

“Ready for round two?” Sans says, leaning on the counter. “Whew, this is going to be my workout for the week.”

You roll your eyes, but start following Sans out the door.

Snowdin again. You go back into Grillby’s and start collecting bottles, being extra careful not to squirt ketchup over yourself when you do. Grillby… sure had a lot of ketchup. Probably because Sans guzzled that stuff.

Two bottles in your hand, you glances over at Sans. He’s distracted again, looking out the window.

“It snows on the surface.” you speak up. You don’t know if that’s any comfort to Sans, but you felt you had to say something.

He looks at you. You wonder when he’s going to stop looking so surprised that you’re speaking. “Yeah, I heard.” he says with a chuckle. “…I won’t miss the snow.”

You figured it wasn’t the snow. But it was all you could really say. You don’t really know what else to do. You turn back, starting to pile up the bottles in your hands. The sooner you did this, the sooner Sans could be relaxing comfortably in Grillby’s—like how he was before. He seemed happiest, here.

“Sa—“ you begin to call out for him, to tell him you were ready to go.

_STOP DOING THINGS FOR HIM._

You freeze in place, your vision distorting for a moment. You haven’t heard Chara this loudly in a long time, and you’re admittedly… scared.

One of the bottles starts to slip out of your grasp, your perfect balance messed up by Chara’s interruption. In a haste to grab and secure it, you reach out—

—and unstablize your whole armful of bottles, starting to slide out of your arms and rush towards the ground.

Not again. Not with Sans there. Not with Grillby depending on you.

_You’re such an idiot—_

why did you take so much?

_You ruined everything—_

Sans was going to be so mad. Grillby was going to…

…Wait, what…?

You blink, slowly standing up straight with the one last bottle you had clutched in a death grip. All of the bottles, instead of crashing to the ground into a horrible shattering mess, were floating at eye level, surrounded by a cyan glow.

Sans. You look over at him suddenly.

He’s just standing there with an arm out. When he notices you looking, he shoots you a brilliant smile. “Hey kid, ever heard of biting off more than you can chew?” he says.

You feel your face burning, and you stand there uselessly while he slowly lowers all the bottles to the ground. “Sorry,” you mutter, picking up the bottles again—this time, leaving three on the ground to pick up later.

“Hey, no sweat.” he says with a shrug, heading out.

You stand there for a moment, trying to calm yourself down. See? Everything was fine. You had no reason to be scared of him. And… you’re not really sure why Chara was so against helping him.

_He’s the enemy. Once he’s out of the way—_

That doesn’t matter. You’re determined that Chara isn’t going to take over your body again.

Chara is silent for a moment, at that, and you can’t help but feel smug.

_You’re not winning this_ , they tell you sharply. _This is MY body now. MY soul. You GAVE it to me. It was part of the DEAL, FRISK._

They _really_ don’t like you feeling smug.

_Shut up._

You can’t help but crack a small smile at how petulant Chara sounds.

_…You can’t keep me out forever._

You ignore them and follow Sans out of the old building. As much as you’d like to think their threats were baseless, you can’t help but feel a little worried.

You needed to figure out what to do about Chara.


	7. mistake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You did sell your soul, after all.

It takes a few more trips to get all of the various items up to the surface, but you get it done, carefully setting the last of the bottles down on the counter, along with some other devices that you assume are for cooking for people made out of fire.

Grillby gives you a thumbs-up before starting to sort all the things you brought and put them carefully away.

You look at Sans expectantly, but he’s already sliding into the seat of a chair and leaning on the table.

“Sans,” you say quietly. It’s still… weird to talk in front of Grillby, even if you’re comfortable around Sans. “Are we done?”

“Mhm? Oh, sure kid…” he says, resting his head on his arms. “Didn’t… didn’t we do enough, today?”

_He’s falling asleep._

He’s… definitely falling asleep. “Sans?” you say quietly, not sure what else to do.

He doesn’t answer you at this point. You think he’s starting to snore.

_Now’s your chance! Attack him!_

With what? You couldn’t do that.

_Surely there’s…_

You look around the soon-to-be-restaurant. Nothing besides chairs and tables.

Chara grumbles in your mind. It’s kind of weird to hear.

_…Let’s just go, Frisk._

You hesitate for a moment behind Sans, glancing at Grillby helplessly. You catch his eye, and all he does is shoot you a shrug in response. You wonder if this has happened a lot, at Grillby’s.

You take a step back, then another, before turning around and heading out. Sans seems to be in good hands, and Grillby seems used to him. You really don’t want to be stuck there all day—you had to find out where everyone else lived. And get a good grasp on the place, in general. You couldn’t always rely on Sans’ shortcuts.

Stepping outside, you have to blink a few times. It’s a lot warmer than Snowdin, and it’s the middle of the day—the sun’s blaring light so cheerfully reminds you of that.

“Frisk?” A familiar voice calls, and you turn around to look, a broad smile settling across your face.

A tall skeleton runs up to you, wearing his familiar “jogboy” shirt. Your tall skeleton. “Frisk!” he calls excitedly. “I was doing my morning jog, passing by all the regular spots, and I was wondering where you were! I passed by her majesty’s house, but I didn’t see you there…” He trails off, looking incredibly thoughtful. “Anyway! Frisk, what are you doing all alone?”

“I was helping Grillby.” you answer simply, glancing back at the place behind you.

“Oh! How hardworking of you, Frisk!” he says, and then pauses. “Are you done?”

You nod.

He brightens up. “Great! Want to join me?”

You nod again, a wide smile on your face.

He returns the smile, and starts heading off. He’s jogging, but at a leisurely pace—you’re sure he’s keeping it slow so that you can keep up. It’s hard, but you do, although you try to keep your breathing quiet.

“So, Frisk,” he begins cheerfully, no hint in his voice of this being a strain for him. You’re impressed, but not too surprised—after all, he probably does this every day. “How was visiting Toriel?” he asks curiously.

You wonder if you, too, start jogging every day, that you can become as strong as Papyrus. Or, maybe even Undyne. “It was good,” you say between breaths. You really hope you’re not panting too hard. “Saw Sans,” you add.

Papyrus nods. “He did mention he was going to see Toriel.” he comments. “They seem to be friends! I’m really glad, he doesn’t seem to be close to… anyone!” he says cheerfully.

You don’t really think it’s a very cheerful thing to say, but you don’t say anything. At this point, you’re starting to get winded. You don’t think you’re able to say anything else—less than usual, even.

But you push yourself to keep running. It’s fun, with Papyrus.

“But I hope he makes friends with more people… he used to be closer to Grillby, but lately he’s been—” Papyrus begins, before noticing that you’re starting to trail behind. He slows his pace down as well. “When you start getting winded, it’s best to walk it off!” he says cheerfully.

You nod, relieved that he’s slowing down, but wonder how someone with no lungs could get winded. You decide to just accept it. They’re made of magic, after all. You don’t think you’ll ever understand.

You slow your pace down to a walk, still feeling exhausted. You’re not much of a runner—you actually walked through all of the underground, as long as it took you.

He’s walking in front of you, guiding you to who-knows where. You just follow. You don’t know where you are, and you assume he does.

There are sticks on the ground.

You’re tired.

You’re holding a stick. You can’t remember picking it up.

_You should go jogging more often._

Chara sounds amused. You vaguely wonder why. You can’t really feel your body, anymore.

“Frisk? What are you doing with that?”

He sounds confused, but innocently. What's going on? Your vision is blurry.

You feel your arms now, swinging a stick down, at full force.

Vision clears. It missed. It was a bad swing.

“You should’ve told me you wanted to spar!” he says. Too cheerful.

I start to swing again.

You finally react. Feeling rushes back into your body, and you ruin my swing.

Grazed him. On the arm.

He flinches, still smiling. “Good one! But next time, you have to warn me.”

You take a step back.

He’s still talking, but you can’t really hear what he’s saying. You can only hear static, growing louder, and Chara, yelling at you.

No.

This time, it wasn’t Chara.

You hurt him.

You take a few more steps back, before starting to run away.

You HURT him. Not that you hadn’t done it before, but this time you knew him, and how much he meant to you.

You aren’t familiar with the woods, but there’s always one place that’s easy to get to.

Chara is silent. This makes it worse. _You_ hurt him. You can try to blame Chara, but you were the one that had killed him in the first place, hadn’t you? All because…

All because you had wanted to die. But no, you hadn’t—you made them all die, instead. You felt trapped. They were trapping you. The underground was trapping you. You hated it. You hated the surface world, as well. Everything you felt about them, about yourself, had been mixing together. You hated them, and most of all, you hated yourself. It was what made you decide to

erase everyone.

But not for _real_. You weren’t a murderer. You could bring them back, you could _reset_.

And you did.

You idiot.

You wished Chara would kill you, too. But they can’t. Neither can you.

Pathetic. You’re pathetic. It’s not even Chara saying it, this time. You. Are. Pathetic.

_Shut up._

You blink. After being quiet for so long, now they–

_Shut up. Stop whining. I don’t want to hear this anymore. You’re wasting your soul, running in circles like this._

Your initial surprise turns into one of sudden rage. “Chara, leave me alone!” you shout, to no one. “Let me die! Leave me alone! I’ll save them–I’ll save them from you, if I’m dead!” you add hysterically, not sure if it was a real solution, or just an excuse to finally die.

SHUT UP.

You ignore them this time, not slowing down your pace. You had to get out of there—get out of their lives before you could cause any more damage. Before Chara could hurt anyone. Before you could ruin things.

You already ruined things, idiot.

You’re getting closer.

_We made a promise! To destroy the whole world! To destroy humanity!_

Chara’s starting to sound hysterical. You had wanted that, too. But, now that better times have come, you realize you were just angry.

_Quitter._

Chara sounds pretty angry themselves. You continue to ignore them, and keep running. The trees clear. You’re not far, now.

_If you won’t do it—_

The summit of Mt. Ebott sits neatly in front of you. It’s almost nostalgic.

_I’ll do it myself._

Your whole body seizes up, and you can’t feel anything but coldness, everywhere.

“Oh! Ha! I told you I didn’t need a knife to do this!” You hear Chara say victoriously. They’re moving your body around. They’re starting to turn around.

No. They can’t. They can’t go back.

With the last of your ability, you make them take a step towards the mountain’s opening.

“Your turn’s up, Frisk!” they shout, grinning wide. They start to move away, but your foot is caught.

Chara’s grin disappears, and they start to scream.

You’re not cold, anymore, but what you feel now is none too pleasant.

There’s only darkness, and gravity.

And then, pain. You feel everything—it’s your body again—but you’re suddenly not sure you want to feel it. You landed on the patch of flowers again, but it’s still painful.

Slowly, you stand up. You recognize this place—it’s the same one as the last time you fell. You start to walk.

You’d been meaning to talk to him, anyway. He was the only one that dealt with sharing a body with Chara, before. He would know how it is. Even if he couldn’t help you out, he would understand. He would believe you.

You peek into the next room, your hopes sinking instantly. No sight of a little yellow flower. He wasn’t there. Had he gone to the surface, after all? Maybe there wasn’t any point in going down here, after all. Your shoulders slump.

_See? You just wasted both of our time._

Great. Chara was back. Maybe you _should_ take your time getting back to the surface.

But not here. It was kind of… creepy. You could stop at Toriel’s house, examine every single thing in her house until Chara starts screaming in your head, or something.

_I’ll do it, if that’s what it takes._

You head out of the room, passing the patch of flowers.

“You're back? I thought you were done carrying things up for people.” A high-pitched voice sounds from behind you.

He was there.

“You know, it was pretty funny watching Smiley Trashbag make you his slave. Do you enjoy doing things like that?”

It was him! You turn around, starting to grin.

“Flowey!” you say cheerfully, walking back to him.  Flowey—Asriel—had always been more comfortable to speak around. You didn’t really understand why, but you assume it was thanks to Chara.

“I always thought you were stupid, but—hey! What's wrong with you? Wipe that stupid smile off your face!”

Despite his words, he looks pretty happy to see you, too. You know how it is, to be lonely and stuck in a large place by yourself.

“I’m glad I found you,” you say, beaming. "I wanted to ask you something."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flowey is my absolute favorite character, you have no idea how glad I am I finally got to him... of course it could've been sooner but... you know how it is...
> 
> Sorry for taking so long!


End file.
